Parishioners kept asking after Mass: Who were you listening to? Those who know me well could have surely guessed: the Indigo Girls...
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time A
A dear friend once described my musical taste
as
“girls with guitars singing sad songs.”
She
was pretty accurate!
Being
in a bit of a post-Christmas winter funk the other day,
that
was just the sort of music I wanted to hear
and
I found myself reaching for a few CDs
that
I listened to constantly in
my late teens and early twenties.
Driving
to and from a meeting in Potsdam,
I
was singing in the car at the top of my lungs.
It
had been quite a while since I’d listened to those albums,
and
yet I remembered every note, every word.
After
that had gone on for a while,
a
couple of things caught my attention.
The
first was the amazing ability of our minds
to
hold on to so much basically useless information!
But
I was also surprised as I listened again to the lyrics:
I
hate to admit it,
but
some of these songs which
were once so dear and meaningful to me
don’t
actually make very much sense.
They
sound good when you listen, and it’s fun to sing along,
but
I wouldn’t be able to tell you in the least what
they’re really all about.
Which
got me to thinking:
How
often do we do that with other words?
I
know it’s polite to ask someone, “How are you?”
Do
I really care about their answer?
At
the end of every phone call to my mom,
I
stop and say, “I love you.”
Can
I keep that from becoming just a catchphrase, a nice habit?
And
what about the words of our prayer?
What
about the words we repeat Sunday after Sunday here at Mass?
Are
we conscious of their significance?
Do
we mean what we say?
For
example…
Behold the Lamb of God!
Behold him who takes away
the sins of the world!
We’re
reminded this morning
that
these are the words of John the Baptist—
words
lifted right from the pages of Scripture.
Why
should we repeat them just before Holy Communion?
What
did they mean when they were first spoken?
And
what ought they mean to you and me today?
St.
John Chrysostom was a bishop
who
lived on the other side of the world
more
than 1600 years ago…
…but
he once gave a homily on the Gospel of John
that
could have easily been given in these weeks
leading
up to the Super Bowl and the Olympics,
the
Oscars and the Grammys.
He
noted that when
a distinguished athlete comes to town,
a distinguished athlete comes to town,
folks
race to the arena to see him compete:
tens
of thousands of people
keenly
focused on his strength and skill,
careful
not to miss a single move.
He
noted that the same thing happens
for
a famous musician, speaker, or actor.
People
drop whatever they’re doing—
even
necessary and pressing business—
to
give her their complete and undivided attention.
If
we’re eager to attend these events,
to
watch and listen with such earnest attention,
then
what zeal, what earnestness ought we display
when
it is no athlete, actor, or musician
who
comes forward in the contest,
“but
a man speaking from heaven,
with
a voice more clear than thunder?”
“More
wonderful still, this sound, great as it is,” he continues,
“is neither harsh nor unpleasant,
“is neither harsh nor unpleasant,
but
rather sweeter and more delightful than all musical harmony,
and
possessing even more skill to soothe.
Besides
all this, this voice is most holy and awesome.
It’s
so full of mysteries, and brings such great benefits,
that
if we were to listen and obey carefully,
we’d
dwell on earth as if it were heaven.”
St.
John Chrysostom was talking about
the
voice of St. John the Apostle in his gospel.
But
what he says applies to the very voice of God
speaking
through the whole of Scripture,
speaking
through his Church.
Do
we recognize who’s really speaking to us?
Are
we paying close attention?
Are
we committing this message to memory?
Are
we learning these words “by heart”?
We
Catholics tend to have an inferiority complex
when
it comes to knowing our faith.
I’m
not exactly sure why that is.
It’s
certainly not because God has made us any less intelligent
than
Protestants, Muslims, or Jews!
We
make a point to learn the stats on our favorite teams,
the
lyrics of our favorite songs, the lines from our favorite movies,
so
we certainly have the ability.
The
question is, I guess: do we have the desire?
We
won’t learn more about our faith by accident.
Why
not make it a priority?
As Catholics,
we must be continuous learners.
Our
education doesn’t end at our Confirmation!
While
we’ll never know it all—
(no
one ever gets to the “bottom” of God!),
we
can always keep discovering more.
Besides,
the point isn’t to make sense of the faith;
the
point is to allow the faith to make sense of us:
to
give meaning and purpose to all the twists and turns of life.
We
live in an age when people
are
asking a lot of questions about Catholicism.
We
owe them rock-solid answers—
and
not just to be scratching our heads
right along with them.
Of
course, the learning of which I speak
isn’t
so much about retaining information.
Christianity,
after all, isn’t a list
of
facts and figures, of customs and commandments;
Christianity
is a person: Christianity
is Christ.
We
need to get to know our faith
because
we need to get to know Jesus;
and
we need to get to know Jesus
because
the world needs us—
like it did John the Baptist—
to keep
pointing him out: Behold the Lamb of God!
Behold the Son who’s come to
do the Father’s will!
Behold a man upon whom the
Spirit rests!
Behold the only one who
makes it all make sense—
who puts the pieces back
together again!
Behold the Savior who takes
away our sins
and calls us to be saints!
Imagine
what would happen if each one of us
took
just a fraction of the time and attention
we
devote to music and sports and movies,
and
instead gave it to growing in our faith.
What
grace, what power would be unleashed here in Malone!
When
it comes to our Catholic faith,
let’s
be sure to give it the attention it deserves.
Let’s
learn to mean what we say and say what we mean.
Then
we’ll dwell on earth as if it were heaven.
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